


More Than Anything

by Dresupi



Series: Quicktaser Fics [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Did I Mention Angst?, Established Relationship, F/M, Loneliness, Love Confessions, Sad with a Happy Ending, Tears, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Being romantically involved with a superhero really sucks sometimes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr user star-lord-and-saviour prompted: "For the valentine's prompt may I request Darcy & Pietro with the song "Kissing You" by Des'ree? Please and thank you!"
> 
> Okay, so I was bawling while I was writing this. Even though I knew I’d be writing a happy ending for it, I was still hurting for them while I wrote this. Oh the OTP feels.
> 
> I love this song, btw. Loved it in Romeo+Juliet. :’)
> 
> Oh, and if you're reading this on a computer, you can hover over the Serbian words to get a translation. If you're on a phone or a tablet, you'll have to wait til the end, I'm afraid. :(

Darcy sniffed and wiped her arm across her nose.  She leaned against the doorframe, looking out at the skyline.  Or trying to, because her vision was kind of blurry.   

She didn’t even know why she was crying.  It wasn’t like this wasn’t exactly what she’d expected.

She’d expected this and yet, here she was.  In a new dress and limp hair, and four-hour old makeup that was streaky from tears. Her Valentine’s Day was not going the way she’d thought it would.    

She shook her head, almost disgusted at herself.  She really needed to decide if this was worth it or not.  His being gone all the time.

Because Pietro was a good guy.  It was just…his day job that was the problem.  And she completely understood that he was under some big time obligations to the world and all. 

So, it might be better for both of them, if she stepped back.  She was pretty sure she split his focus too much as it was.  Not that he had much focus to split, the poor guy. 

She smiled for a split second at the thought of Pietro actually having focus, before fresh tears began to fall because she knew what she had to do whenever he finally got home. 

She got out a suitcase and opened it, emptying the contents of her dresser drawers before the tears were flowing so freely that she couldn’t see. She kept tripping on her dress. 

She ripped it off angrily, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, walking to the bathroom to remove the rest of the makeup that was dripping and stinging her eyes. 

She turned off the water and walked back into the bedroom while drying her face on a towel, she jumped when he spoke, she hadn’t even heard him come in. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Pietro sounded quiet.  Something crinkled. 

She dropped the towel and looked at him.  Fresh from training, it looked like, clutching a dozen roses in his hand like it was an anchor. 

“Yeah…I was…I—“ 

“Have you been crying, _Draga?_ What’s the matter?  Something with your family?  Your father?” 

She gulped painfully, shaking her head.  “No…my father’s fine…I just…I’m…I think I’m moving out.” 

He looked genuinely blindsided.  He sat down on the bed with a thump.  He was quiet for a long time before setting the flowers on the bed beside him.  “Is there someone else?” 

“No…no…of course not.” 

“Then, I do not understand,” he said obstinately.  “Aren’t we happy, Darcy?” 

“When we’re together…” she said warily.  “I’m so happy when we’re together.” 

“Oh…” he said, sighing.  “I understand.” 

“I’m sorry…” she sputtered, fresh tears dripping down her cheeks.  “I’m sorry, Piet.  I just…I can’t do this anymore.  This whole…waiting around on the off chance that you might come home.  Not wanting to miss you if I go out, so I don’t go out…I just…I feel like I might be splitting your focus too much and—“ 

“Which is it?  You’re lonely, or you’re splitting my focus?” he asked sharply. 

She bit her lip, shaking her head and trying to calm down.  “I’m splitting your focus…because…” 

“That’s bullshit,” he snapped.  “Tell me the real reason.  Don’t give me some bullshit reason that glosses over the fact that I’m never here.  Don’t excuse me from guilt in this.  Don’t do that.” 

She sat down beside him on the mattress and dissolved into tears.  And she felt his arms around her.  “Don’t cry…Darcy…Fuck…I’m sorry, Darcy, please…”

She turned towards him, let him comfort her, because God…he felt so good.  And safe.  And warm.  And she just wanted to crawl inside his shirt and live there forever rather than have this conversation. 

She gripped his shirt with surprising strength and he held her upright until she stopped crying. 

He was still holding her, whispering “shhhh” either to her, or to himself, she wasn’t really sure.  She patted his arm, pulling back from him and wiping her nose on his shirt in the process. 

“Sorry…” she mumbled. 

He shrugged it off.  “Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” He sounded lighthearted, but there was a desperation there too.  God…she was desperate too.  She didn’t want to leave.  She just didn’t see a way to fix this.   

She didn’t answer him, opting to look down at her hands. 

“Anything…” he insisted.  “I’ll figure out a way to make it happen.  Do you want me to quit?  I will.  We can move out of the city.  I’ll get a real job somewhere.  You can go back to school.  We’ll get married, have kids…” 

“And you’ll be completely miserable…” 

“You think I want THIS life?” He gestured around the apartment.  “This life, where I see you sporadically?  I fucking don’t.  I want a family, Darcy.  With you. Peace and quiet and at LEAST four beautiful children who all look like you.” 

That…that she had to ignore because it would kill her if she couldn’t have it.  She moved past it, “You can’t just leave.  You owe them…the Avengers—“ 

“I’m going to owe them shit-all if you’re not here.” 

“Pietro…I’m not happy.” 

“So tell me how to make you happy.  I’m serious about quitting.” 

She knew he was.  He’d leave.  Even if they were on the run for the rest of their lives, he’d do it if she asked him.  Which was why she couldn’t ask him for that.  But it was also clear that she wasn’t going to leave him either.  Something had to give.  And she was tired of giving. 

“I need a set time that I know I’m going to see you, no matter what, barring worldwide crisis that I would find out about anyway…” she said, sniffing.  “Even if it’s just once a month…I just need to know when.  I can’t do this…whenever-you-have-time-for-me thing…” 

“It’s not like that…” he mumbled, swallowing audibly before looking at her.  Eyes red and earnest.  “It’s not like that…if it weren’t for the Avengers…I’d be up your ass all the time.” 

She smiled in spite of herself.

“I’ll call Steve…” he pulled out his phone and dialed the number.  She looked at the clock, alarmed to see that it was after midnight. Not technically Valentine’s Day anymore. She thought about stopping him, telling him to put it off till morning…but she didn’t.

He zipped out of the room, and she heard him talking rapidly.  She heard her name, which made her flinch because Steve was going to think she was a fucking Yoko or something. 

When he returned, he was smiling.  Widely. He looked positively giddy.  He clapped his hands together.  “So…barring an alien invasion, or hostile takeover of the government…it would appear that I am yours on the weekends.”

She raised her eyebrows.  “Like…the whole weekend? Every weekend?” 

He nodded.  “From eight p.m. on Friday night till eight p.m. on Sunday night…for forty-eight hours, I am yours.” He smiled, folding his arms like he was proud of himself. 

As well he should be.  And he almost didn’t catch her when she launched herself at him, lips seeking out his so desperately that any other discussion could be put off till the morning. 

He turned to drop down to the bed, but grunted in pain, turning his head as he pulled her squished flowers out from under his rear end.  “Sorry…” he held them out to her.  “Happy Valentine’s Day?” 

“I like my other present better…” she murmured, taking the flowers and setting them safely on the nightstand.  He kissed her again, pulling her tightly against him.  She broke it off when she needed to breath, panting and smoothing back his hair, a thought suddenly coming to her.  “Did you mean it?  Before, with the…family and…stuff?” 

He smiled faintly, nodding.  “ _Više od svega"_

More than anything. 

    

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Draga-Dear  
> Više od svega-More than anything
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com/)!


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